Back to You

Del made a small noise in the back of his throat as he tried to slow his breathing, but he could already feel his hands shaking. This was why he needed to be home. This was why he needed to drink tonight. Because the alcohol blurred the memories, made them comfortably fuzzy, so that they didn’t seem real anymore.

But he was seeing it now. And it was so real.

It was too real.

“Please. Please. Please,” he chanted through gritted teeth. He was breathing heavily now; a slight tingling began in his spine, and his stomach churned unpleasantly.

Why did he have to call him that night? Why the hell did he have to be so pathetic? Why couldn’t he have just learned to take care of himself?

And why couldn’t his brother have told him no? Just once, why couldn’t he have refused him?

“Goddamn it, Aaron!”

Del whirled suddenly, grabbing the first thing his hand landed on and launching it against the wall.

“I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

The bowl crashed against the metal as he brought his fists to his eyes again, shaking his head quickly.

shoulder>“But what if you forget you love me, like Daddy did?”

“Never. I’ll never forget.”

Del spun wildly, not even seeing what he pulled from the table as he whirled around and heaved it, and before it even made contact with the wall, he was reaching for the next object.

“It’s your fault your father is gone, and now you took your brother too.”

“Fuck you!” he shouted, grabbing an entire stack of plates from the table and flinging them at the wall with the full force of his body. “Fuck you!”

He spun back to the table, grabbing two wine glasses and throwing them both, stifling a sob in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry I made you come get me when you were sick.”

Del groaned pathetically as he dropped onto the table, swiping his arm across it, sending half of what was there crashing to the floor.

Metal crunching.

A hideous squealing noise.

A flash of light.

He brought his fist down hard on the table, hearing the plates and glasses rattle as a few toppled over.

“No need for sorrys, Mike. You can always count on me.”

He grabbed the large crystal vase from the center of the table and brought it above his head.

“You promised!” he screamed as he turned and launched it across the room, stumbling forward with the force as the vase shattered against the far wall.

And then he dropped to his knees.

His whole body shook with tremors, and his ears rang with the sudden silence. Del fell forward onto his hands, exhaling in guttural grunts.

The shards of broken glass on the floor spun in a dizzy arc before his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, trying desperately to catch his breath.

Del had no idea how long he sat there attempting to get control over his body, but eventually he felt her presence. His eyes were still closed, but he knew she was beside him.

“Tell me what you need,” she said softly.

He was still trembling slightly, his breath unsteady. Slowly, he pushed off his hands and sat back on his heels. “A drink,” he rasped, looking up at her for the first time.

There was no disappointment in her expression. There was no sympathy either, which would have been worse in his eyes.

There was only understanding.

“It’s in the car,” she said gently. “Let’s get out of here.”

Del nodded, taking another second to get his bearings before he stood, and Lauren stepped back, giving him his space.

They walked to the car in silence, and Del was grateful in that moment that she knew him so well. She didn’t try to hold him, or talk to him, or console him in any way. She just let him be, which was exactly what he needed.

They got in the car, and Lauren reached behind her, pulling a brown paper bag out of the backseat and handing it to him.

Del reached inside and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, tossing the bag on the floor as he unscrewed the cap and took a shot of it. Lauren busied herself with putting on her seatbelt and starting the car, giving him whatever privacy she could in the confined space.

By the time they pulled out of the park { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: about rying lot, Del had taken a second shot; he rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth seep through his body as it started taking the tension out of his muscles.

His mind was deliciously empty now; behind his closed lids it was dark and serene, and he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

A few minutes passed before he felt her fingers on the back of his hand, tentative and gentle.

He cracked one eye and looked over at her.

“Home?” she asked softly.

He looked down to where her hand rested over the top of his, and he turned his slowly so that his palm was facing up before intertwining their fingers.

“Yeah,” he said, resting his head back on the seat as he closed his eyes again. Del lifted the bottle, taking a third shot.

She continued to drive in silence, her thumb making tiny passes over the back of his hand, and suddenly Del felt like he was melting into the seat. He wasn’t sure if it was the energy he’d just exerted, the trauma of reliving the accident, the third consecutive shot of whiskey, or the way she was touching him, but whatever was causing it, he just wanted to suspend time and feel this way for a while.

By the time they got back to his house, Del had taken his fourth and fifth shots, and his body was starting to succumb to the numbness he’d been craving all night.

Lauren pulled into his driveway, putting the car in park and letting the engine idle.

He remained where he was, his eyes still closed, and she sat there in silence, her hand in his, once again giving him exactly what he needed.

Finally he spoke, his husky voice rasping through the silence. “Stay with me for a while?”

When there was no answer, he opened his eyes and turned to look at her.

Her eyes were on him, gentle despite being unreadable.

“Of course.”

Lauren released his hand to turn off the car, and Del unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, walking around the side of the darkened house.

When he reached the tiny backyard, the motion light came on, casting a soft glow across the grass. He inhaled deeply before he lowered himself to the ground, resting his elbows on his knees.

A moment later Lauren came into the yard, and Del brought the bottle to his mouth again as she delicately folded her legs underneath her, sitting beside him.

The night air was heavy with the dewy scent of spring and the distant sound of crickets chirping.

“How did you know about that place?” he finally asked.

“Mr. Bre

Del nodded as he looked down at the bottle in his hand, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Well, thanks. I think,” he added with a tiny laugh.

Lauren shifted on the grass, crossing her legs in front of her. “Do you want to talk about Aaron?”

His smile fell. “No.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her look down. A beat of silence passed before she asked, “Will you anyway?”

He turned toward her, irritated. “What, is this part of your psych class too? I’m not an experiment, you know.”

She lifted her eyes then, looking at him.

And even in the dim light, he could see t@is"> shoulderhe hurt there, and he had to look away.

“I just…I know he was important to you,” she said, turning away from him and picking at the hem of her jeans. “I just wanted to know about him.”

Something pricked in Del’s chest at her tone of voice.